Thunderbirds Thunderbirds are Go Fic Prompts
by Madilayn
Summary: A series of one-off ficlets based on fic prompt requests I recieve on Tumblr. Each chapter will be able to be a stand alone read.
1. Loss

I have opened my tumblr up for fic prompts. This fic will be comprised of one-off chapters based on these prompts. I will include the request so that you now what I was prompted for.

First in the fic prompts. For I **cegirl2772** **said:**

Scott. Thunderbirds Are Go 2015. Loss. (Like when Jeff first disappeared or first life lost in a rescue.)

* * *

It was a feeling he knew all too well. That heaviness on his chest, like breath being squeezed out of him. The blackness in his mind that threatened to envelop his life. That feeling like you will never smile again.

Sometimes, he can throw it off faster than others. He's learned to deal with the feeling of loss all his life.

His first memory of loss was when his father had to leave for one of his duty tours. He soon learned that when daddy left, he would be gone for months. Mommy tried to be happy, but he could feel her sadness, and even though he was still a baby, he can remember that loss, because it was repeated so often.

That loss was always in the back of his mind growing up.

And then there was his first experience of the blackness of loss. When Mom was killed, the black weight pressing on him, the feeling of despair. How could they go on, when even Dad was struck down. He could still feel that loss when he and his brothers were taken away from Dad, separated with no knowledge of when or if they would be together again.

It had been that second loss, plus the relief when Grandma had stepped in to save them that had helped him push through the loss of Mom, to become the big brother that his younger brothers needed.

Loss of innocence can come in many ways; however it can also bring a new beginning. Scott remembers every second of his loss of childhood innocence. He remembered being at his father's home – their old family home – undergoing some testing for an early entry into the Air Force Cadet program. That day, he had come home from the final day, elated because he had been told that he had passed all the testing and would be fast tracked to early entry.

Coming home to find his father and his latest woman passed out drunk, naked, in the living room. The stench of vomit in the air as well as other evidence of his activities made him realise that his father was not some super human being, but only a flawed human like all the rest of them.

He could still feel the tears of shame that he shed as he had to clean up his father, get him up the stairs to bed. Trying to clean up the lounge room, only to find _her_ awake. Watching him. And then that other loss, and always regretting not the loss but the manner of it.

The beginning, however, as his father, stumbling downstairs came across them, and father's reaction to knowledge of what had happened.

No – no regret for that loss, as it had given them back Father. The Father that they had all come to love deeply. For Scott, however, there was always in the back of his mind that his father was a flawed human, and it made him able to question him, to be able to stand for his own decisions.

He lost his career. He knew why he gave it up, but it still hurt, and he still felt that bone crushing loss as he gave up something he had been working towards since he was ten. He had already been touted as being a better pilot than his father. Scott Tracy felt, in his achievements in his career, that he had stepped out of the shadow of Jeff Tracy and become his own man. The loss of that hurt. Especially since, in the future, he knew that what he did would have to remain secret. Instead, he would be publically known as just another man who was the offspring of an extremely wealthy parent, not doing anything himself, living of his father's achievements.

His brothers knew, though, and it helped that loss that they were all working together. And working together helped his next loss.

It was another crushing one - the feeling of loss when you know that despite all you have done, you could not save people. All five brothers were affected by it, all five wondering if there was something that they could have done to prevent it. Scott forced himself to work through the loss, to provide comfort to his younger brothers, to re-assure them that they had done all they could.

Scott learned through his life to put loss behind him, to subdue it into what else he needed to do. There were those who thought that the Field Commander of International Rescue was a cold, hard man. He knew that there were those who wondered how such a man could be part of such a compassionate organisation.

But he didn't care what they thought. He had to present that façade, or he would fall apart. Not even his father saw the agony, the crushing blackness that he lived with every day.

Only his brothers saw the fallout, were there to pick up the pieces of Scott. Virgil always got the worst, his almost psychic connection to his older brother meant he knew first when Scott was about to crack completely. He provided the strong shoulder that Scott could lean on until his crisis had passed. John was the comforting ear, whether present or not, he could tell John anything.

Gordon and Alan, his much loved baby brothers, joked about as the "afterthoughts" but loved no less, provided a different sort of strength. Gordon knew from his own experience what Scott had given up in his career. But both he and Alan idolised their oldest brother nonetheless.

Scott knew this, and he tried to meet their expectations, because to seem them loose that look of absolute confidence and love when they looked at him would be the hardest loss of all.

Until now.

Scott Tracy raised his head from his arms, his eyes reddened as they had not been for many years. Why was it that now, when the secrecy about International Rescue had been exploded, when he could now hold his head up and be who he truly was, could this have happened.

He exited Thunderbird One. Loss was heavy in his body, but he had to step forward. He knew the loss that they were all facing. But he also knew that they could not let this particular loss overwhelm them.

International Rescue was more than something built by their father. It was the legacy that both of their parents had left them. Built in memory of mom, and now their father was lost to them as well.

His steps firmed as he walked to the lounge and he let out a piercing whistle, the one he had used for as long as he could remember that would tell his younger brothers that he needed them.

They would carry on. Loss was the burden they bore, but loss could be turned into a force to move forward.

The loss was there, would always be there, and it would spur them on. Because otherwise, it would crush them.


	2. Care

Another fic prompt. This time, i-is-a-freak asked for "TaG and Care" So I came up with some Gordon/Lady P fluff.

* * *

It had been far too long since she had come to the Island, not since before Jeff Tracy had disappeared. She had expected to find it too painful, however she had reckoned without the sheer force of male nature that was the Tracy brothers. Yes, the pain of Jeff's absence was there, and she could see it reflected each day in the Tracy's whole beings, but their own natures meant it wasn't a burden or morbid.

The Island was always so strangely peaceful, even with the noise of Thunderbirds taking off or returning. It was as if the Island wrapped itself around you and the 'Birds were just another part of it, like the sounds of the tropical jungle or the waves on the beach.

Penelope stretched in the warm sunshine of a late spring morning. The day was perfect and she had decided to take a wander down to the sandy beach cove and work on her tan. She knew just the perfect spot on that small secluded beach. Nicely shaded by vegetation so she wouldn't get too hot, secluded enough that she knew that she would not be overlooked by the house as she slipped her swimsuit off to ensure that she had no tanlines.

At first she was disappointed to see a neatly folded pile next to the area she had intended to sunbathe, but relaxed at the sight of the gaudy shirt. Only Gordon, she thought. He was obviously off diving so she knew that she wouldn't be disturbed. How silly though, to leave his gear in the sun like that!

Towel laid out, she sighed and decided that an all-over tan was not really feasible – not if Gordon was likely to come upon her unexpectedly (delicious thought though it was, she wasn't sure if he could handle the shock).

Still… She lay face down and untied her bikini top. She propped her chin on her hands and started to read the book she had bought with her, frowning occasionally at the heat that seemed to suddenly hit, and wishing she had bought a bottle of water with her. Her eyes grew fuzzy and she sank forward, her arms collapsing until she rested, to all appearances, sound asleep.

* * *

"Penelope? Wake up! Open your eyes, Penelope. That's it. Good girl."

Her back was on fire, and her head felt full of cotton wool, mouth parched. She tried to speak but failed, however gulped at the cool water that was being offered to her. "Sips only for now, Penny. That's my girl. Lots of little sips. Now I want you to lie back down for a second. Only a little – I need to get some cool water on you. Just say there honey. I won't be long." His voice was calming, soothing. She knew something was wrong with her, but wasn't sure what. Only that she felt safe with him.

It seemed no time until he was back and was lifting her to a sitting position again, and she leaned against his strong torso and tried to focus on something that was nagging in the back of her mind. Something about Gordon, and her sunbathing and…. His knee moved into her sight, supporting her against his leg and thigh and she suddenly felt cool wetness on her back. "Just slip this on, Penny… that's it. You're a torment to me like this, Penny. Here… another sip of water sweetie. That's it. Drink up. Good girl. Can you talk, Penny? Come on, talk to me. Say hello."

"G'rd'n?" She tried again. "Gordon?" Much better. Her voice sounded weaker than normal though.

"Hello, Pen.. Sorry. Lady Penelope," His voice sounded relieved. "Welcome back. You've got a touch of heat stroke, and a nasty sunburn. Now, I want you to drink the rest of this water before we go anywhere. Then I'm going to carry you up to the house and I can treat the sunburn and the heatstroke properly."

"Can walk," she slurred.

"No, honey. Not in this state you can't." He gently stroked her hair back. "Drink up, Lady P." He held the water bottle to her mouth again and she drank gratefully. "How are you going? Do you think you can hold the bottle while I carry you?"

She nodded and took another swallow of water. "Yes."

"Good. Now don't try to do anything, Lady P. Just stay still and trust me. Can you do that for me?"

She smiled at him. "I always trust you Gordon." Her voice was a little stronger, she felt a little better, though she wondered just how he would lift her. Scott or Virgil – she knew that they would have the physical strength to do this. But Gordon… Gordon of the soft brown eyes and caramel streaked hair. Gordon, the only Tracy male who didn't make her feel positively tiny. But she did trust him. One thing she knew about every Tracy – they didn't tell you something just to make you feel better. You could trust what they said.

If Gordon said he could carry her, then she knew he could. She held the water bottle, now nearly empty and relaxed into his hold. Fascinated, she watched the muscles play across his bare chest and in the arm she could see as he flexed to lift her and rise from his crouch.

She was barely jostled as he stood, his hold firm, but caring and he smiled at her, gentle, but still lopsided and completely and utterly _Gordon_. "See, that wasn't hard was it, Your Ladyship? Now just lean against me and rest your head on my shoulder." He swallowed suddenly. "Dammit – should have fastened the shirt… but…oh that's nice," he muttered as she relaxed against him. "Comfy?"

Penelope nodded. She was. Incredibly comfy, actually. His voice washed over her, soothing, caring. She felt herself drifting off. "No – Penny, honey, stay awake for me. You can't go to sleep just yet, sweetheart."

"Tired."

"Yes, I know. But I need you to stay awake until I've got you all sorted." He was moving swiftly, his footsteps sure. "Once I've got you all treated, you can sleep all you want. Not long now, Lady P.

She tried. Really she did. But… he really was comfortable, and she felt so safe in his arms. She raised the bottle of water and drank the last of it and tried to nestle further against him. Really – no wonder there was all the praise for International Rescue, not to mention all the swooning from women.

The coolness of the air conditioning roused her as they entered the Villa and she lifted her head from his shoulder feeling the cool air through the dampness of the shirt he had slipped on her. It eased the fire in her back somewhat and she sighed in relief. He smiled down at her. "The air conditioning will help a lot, Lady P. You've still got a bit of a temp, so I need to cool you down a bit more. And deal with the sunburn on your back. But first - let me pop you down here and get you some more water. And me, for that matter." He set her carefully down on a stool. "Grab onto the bench in case you feel dizzy, OK?" She nodded, feeling somewhat bereft as he padded on bare feet to the refrigerator, opening it and pulling out a bottle of water, which he downed in several large swallows.

"I drank your water," she croaked out.

"You needed it more than I did, Your Ladyship. And you still do." He pulled several bottles out and then grabbed a small sachet from a cupboard. "You're not gunna like this, but you need the electrolytes," he said. Gordon then looked at the array on the bench. "Max!" he yelled and bounded round the bench to grab Penelope as she swayed. "Whoops! Still not quite there." He turned as he saw Brains' robot glide into the room. "Max – take those up to my room and put them in the fridge there, will you. You're lucky I was home, Lady Penelope. Everybody else is out, and you would have been pretty seriously ill if there had been nobody around until later."

"Saw your gear on the beach," she said, feeling him lift her again. "Where you taking me?" Her head was aching and her limbs still felt heavy and useless.

"My bedroom," he grinned at her. "I'm going to have my wicked wicked way with you. Or at least your sunburn and heat stroke. Really – I know where all my supplies are to treat you there. It's faster than taking you to your room, and then having to hunt them out. Besides, my room has a much nicer view than yours. And I can get on with some work and still keep an eye on you until you're OK."

"What ever will people say!" It was a bad joke, but she cracked it anyway.

"I know," he said, "thanks Max." He manouvered them through the doorway. "The wicked Lady Penelope corrupting innocent young men. But I'm willing to make the sacrifice." His smile was gentle and it made her glow inside. "Max, can you go and grab me some large towels and spread them on the bed for me."

"You could put me down."

"Perhaps. But I rather like you where you are. And I still need to get you into the shower."

"Why? I had a shower this morning."

"To cool you down, honey. It's the fastest way to get your body temperature down." He walked into another room that was revealed to be a bathroom. "You see, dad had the brilliant idea to give all the bedrooms a bathroom. He said he didn't want to have to wait for us all to get through with one bathroom." That cocky grin again. "Virgil takes hours getting his hair right, you know. OK – now I'm going to turn the water on – it's cold so be warned. I'm going to have to slip that shirt off, I need to get the water on your back. Just stand there and let me do this." He let her slip to the ground, standing, but supported by his arm. She felt weak, and slipped her arms around him to help hold herself upright.

"You sound like you've done this before. All of it I mean."

"Yeah. All of my brothers have had heat stroke at one stage or another, especially after we first moved here. And before that, I've done my share of lifeguarding and dealing with sunburn and mild heatstroke." He gently smoothed her hair out of her face. "My brothers aren't as pretty as you though."

"You'll get wet!"

"That's not a problem. I'm still in my swim gear." She felt the shirt slide off her shoulders and suddenly she remembered what had been nagging at her. "My top!"

"I had to leave it behind. Don't worry, Your Ladyship. I'll go back and get it later."

"But Gordon! I'm…"

"Shhhh. I'm trying to be all professional here. If you don't point out the blatantly, beautifully obvious, I can stay that way."

"So you call all your rescues sweetheart and honey?" She then gasped as he picked her up by the waist and popped her under the cold water.

"No… well, sometimes. Children usually. And beautiful blonde ladies called Penelope." He gently manipulated them so that she was pressed against him, her back receiving the brunt of the water. "I'm sorry, Penelope. This is going to hurt a little, but it will help take the sting out of the burn."

She was gasping with the pain, but then felt soothed as his hand smoothed something over her back. "Aloe vera soap," he explained. "I'll put some more cream on it when you're OK to get out."

"How long will that be?"

"Good – you're sounding much more like yourself. I don't think long. I can feel your body temperature dropping." He shifted his position slightly. Hers may have been dropping, but his was rising at an alarming rate. "Let me know if you start to feel dizzy or nauseous though."

She clapped a hand over her mouth. "You had to mention."

"Whoops! Sorry." He gently helped her to the toilet and knelt her down. "Go for it." And then he was gone.

The nausea didn't last long, but the bile left her with a vile taste in her mouth and tears in her eyes as her stomach emptied itself of the water she had drunk.

And then he was there again, gently helping her up, wiping her face with a clean cloth and giving her more water. "Don't cry, hon.. erm.. swe.. Pen…erm… anyway, don't cry."

"M'not crying."

"Of course not. Can you drink some water for me?"

"And I'm not a baby."

"Nope. Defintely not that. I noticed it immediately."

"And I'm not one of your rescues."

"I'd debate that."

"And my back hurts."

"Come on then, and I'll help fix that."

"And Gordon?"

"Yes Lady P?"

"I really think you can call me Penny if you want. We've had a shower together, you've seen me throw up. I think that society will accept a little lack of formality between us."

"Good to know that. Can you walk out to the bed?"

"Yes." He scooped her up. "I said I can walk to the bed"

"I know." She relaxed as he carried her the few steps to the bed. It was rather nice to be cared for like this. He was just as gentle as he placed her on the bed. But she didn't miss his warm gaze as he looked at her. "Lie down on your stomach. I've turned the air conditioning as cold as I dare, so you can keep cool, but I need to get this cream on you. It's one of Brains' concoctions. A couple of days and you won't even know you had a burn. There won't even be any peeling. But – it's going to sting a bit as I put it on, but that won't last."

It did sting – enough to make her gasp, as with the sting came an icy cold. And yet, she felt like his hands soothed her even more.

His touch was gentle, caring and she sighed as he smoothed it over her back and the backs of her legs. "That's awfully nice," she said, and then was vaguely disappointed when he helped her sit up. Once again, she was resting against his torso. "Now, you can have a sleep, but before then, I need you to drink this. He proffered her a bottle of some reddish liquid. "It's water with electrolyte powder in it. Tastes foul, but you need it." She sipped and gagged.

"Gordon, is this one of your jokes? Because it's very unfunny."

"Wish it was Penny. One thing Brains has yet to be able to do is fix the taste of this shit. You don't need to drink it all at once though. One mouthful of this, and you can have two mouthfuls of water."

"When did you get so bossy?"

"I'm always bossy when I need to be." His tone was still gentle and he stroked her hair back again. "Sorry about the mess I've made to your hair, Penny."

"I'll make you fix it," she said drowsily. "You can spend hours brushing the tangles out."

"If you like. Tired?"

She nodded. "I think you're OK to sleep a bit, but I'll just stay to make sure you're fine. That OK?"

"Gordon?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go away. Do you mind if I just… lean on you to sleep? I don't do well lying on my tummy sleeping."

"I guess…." If he gritted his teeth, he could ignore that he had a half-naked Penelope against him.

He settled back against the bedhead and she manouvered herself until she was lying mostly on him, her hands snaked around his body, her head on his shoulder, and she used one arm to nudge him. "You may need to put your arms around me," she said. "For safety."

"Yours or mine?" Please, he thought, go to sleep. Maybe when I wake up, I'll find this was just another dream.

"Oh mine, for sure." She moved her leg a little and smiled into his chest feeling him jump.

They stayed like that for a while and he thought she had drifted to sleep. "Gordon?"

"Yes honey?"

"I do wish you'd kiss me."

So he did.


	3. Love

Prompt: Love

scribbles97 Please could you do something with- TaG 2015, love (Perhaps the boys' first crushes or something?)  
Thanks!

Here you go scribbles97 - a series of posts on love. I hope you enjoy them. I make absolutely apologies for John/Kayo and Gordon/Penelope. And for the first time, I have written a pairing that I never thought I would - guess which one and what it is.

And I dedicate this fic to my wonderful Groovykat. She has let me use her character Sammie Johnson, who appeared in a RP fic, as an adopted sister to my own RPfic character. Wedgie and Mynah forever babe!

* * *

Love can make a person do many things. It can inspire, it can nurture and it can make giving up your world seem worthwhile. It can also make the loss of the focus of that love seem like you have been sucked into a black hole, where you will never see light again, and where it seems nothing and nobody can reach you. Sometimes, it then takes a completely different sort of love to bring you back again.

 **Scott**

Her name was Sammie and she flew a red jet and was _Sammie Johnson – Air Ranger_ and Scott thought she was the most wonderful person in the world. Of course, the fact that she looked like Mommy – with brown hair and eyes didn't hurt. Of course, she wasn't exactly like Mommy, but then Mommy was perfect. And Dad agreed.

But Sammie was even nicer that Mrs Robson, who was Scott Tracy's first grade teacher and who just seemed to understand him.

Sammie had _adventures_. Dad said that though there was a group of Air Rangers, they weren't quite like Sammie and her friends, but Scott didn't believe him. Dad was with the World Space Agency, which was good, and Dad was Scott's hero, but it wasn't the same as _Sammie Johnson – Air Ranger_.

Scott had all the toys, and the books and the holovids of Sammie and her adventures, and he just _knew_ that he was going to grow up and be an Air Ranger too, and fly a red jet and have _adventures_.

By the time Scott was 30, he had discovered that being an Air Ranger wasn't exactly like _Sammie Johnson – Air Ranger_ , but he still had a fondness for women with brown hair and eyes and who loved flying and life with her enthusiasm. And his jet was silver and blue, not red. His adventures now weren't of the Air Ranger sort, but they were still enough to get adrenaline pumping in his system. He didn't have the toys any more, but his books and holovids of Sammie were still cherished, and when he had time, he'd sit down and watch them.

Because you never ever quite forget your first love.

 **John**

It was, John Tracy thought, funny how the human mind and body could direct things. All of a sudden, something that was once _one way_ was suddenly _another way_. With no warning, your own personal galaxy could be tipped completely out of its design when one of the stars or planets decided that things would be _this way now_.

Looking back, he could never decide a precise moment when his mind and body decided that this one other person was the one who would be the one for him. It was even more astonishing to him when he discovered that one other person felt the same way, and that their relationship had changed forever.

It was a completely different feeling than that he had for his parents or brothers, or even for past girlfriends. Or Mrs Robson, his first grade teacher. He still thought very fondly of her – she had inspired his love of learning.

This new feeling was all at once wonderful and horrible, raising him to the absolute heights of happiness and the depths of despair.

His analytical mind had found it hard to process, and when EOS had questioned him, he had, for the first time, found himself completely at a loss to explain it. The physical side was easy, it was the emotional, the human side that stumped him.

Instead, EOS had researched "romance" and "love" and had now decided that she was an expert in all things love-related and tended to give advice. Advice he neither wanted nor asked for.

But at least she wasn't jealous. Just curious. And that was another thing making this new state of being difficult. EOS had an endless fascination with the human state of sexual arousal. It didn't help that the object of his affection found it rather hilarious. But then, _she_ wasn't the one being bombarded on a daily basis by his blasted code-child.

Still… he had to admit that in some of her suggestions EOS had a point. He had been careful. Taken his time. Wanted to be sure. Until he had reached the point he was at right at this minute.

He stepped forward, towards the naked woman who had asked him the question. He wasn't blushing that his tight suit showed the evidence of his arousal by the sight of her. All he could see was her beautiful eyes, the love in them, the need for him.

He took her in his arms and kissed her deeply. "Here and now, Tanusha," he said.

"It's about time," she replied, searching for his suit fastenings.

And John Tracy lost himself in one of the human expressions of love, no longer as confused.

Because, when you stop analysing it, love really was rather easy to understand.

 **Virgil**

For a man with a deep and romantic soul, it was somewhat surprising to most people who knew him that Virgil Tracy had never actually been "in love". Even those who thought they knew him best couldn't believe that Virgil hadn't found himself somebody to settle down with before any of them.

Only one person knew the truth of the matter.

Scott always claimed that Virgil was still pining over Mrs Robson, who had taught him in first grade and who Virgil had worshipped (ignoring the fact that Scott had also worshipped said lady). Their father and grandmother assumed that Virgil was too much in love with romance to actually look and see what love was.

John had been involved in helping his immediate younger brother hide from various females who were chasing him, and had, at times, also hidden Virgil from prying eyes when he took a fancy to one of the various females. Virgil had, incidentally, performed the same service for him, which evened it out. He figured that Virgil was too busy having fun to settle for one person.

Alan joked that Virgil's first love was Thunderbird Two, and it would take a really special lady to match that one. He was partially right.

Gordon suspected. He'd seen the look of envy on Virgil's face when Gordon had been rather spectacularly "outed". And Gordon had been only too happy to give the explanation to his family that he didn't really care about gender, the important thing was that you were completely in love, and that the aim of sex was pleasure, so who cared who gave that pleasure, as long as all the parties involved were happy and in full agreement.

It was that look of envy that had Gordon watching his immediate older brother carefully, and being completely surprised when he did realise the object of Virgil's love was.

For there was no doubt that Virgil Tracy was in love. Deeply so, and with the last person, on the surface, that one would expect.

However, when you looked closer, you saw two minds meeting, one pair of eyes that always saw beyond outward appearances, turned to another pair that appeared to be bemused by the idea of love.

Once both parties realised, Gordon reasoned, it was going to be rather incredible to watch.

Because love never does work exactly as you expect.

 **Gordon**

None of his brothers could really understand what Gordon Tracy felt for the ocean. It at once exhilarated and caressed him, like the most skilled of lovers could bring his body and soul to the heights of pleasure. One of his greatest pleasures was swimming naked in the ocean, feeling the water and waves buffeting his body, and he did it at every opportunity.

He flipped on his back and laughed as he floated, caressed by the waves. His brothers all thought him more than slightly insane anyway. They accepted that he took lovers regardless of gender, but to tell them that he also found the feel of the ocean more than a little arousing was probably going too far – even on the Tracy Scale of Insanity.

He swam back to Four which was bobbing on the surface and hauled himself up onto her, hissing a little at the sting of warm metal on bare skin. He knew it was fair to say he was obsessed with the ocean – had been since as long as he could remember.

Mrs Robson, the first woman after Mom that he had loved, had tried to get him to do drawings of things other than the ocean and its inhabitants, but had given up after a few weeks, recognising the signs of a Tracy with an obsession.

Everything that made up the ocean, he loved passionately, and mourned when something happened that would cause harm to her.

A splash of water brought him back to the present and he stood and launched himself back into the water, his body as graceful as those of the dolphins who accepted him as one of their own.

Gordon Tracy was in his true element. And although he and Penny were moving tentatively, slowly, to something more, Gordon knew that she could never match the love he had for the ocean.

But then, he also knew that his own heart was as big as the ocean, and that his heart could give and take love just like the ocean accepted him, with a splash and then an acceptance as if he had been in there all the time.

Because love was all about accepting love.

 **Alan Tracy**

He couldn't remember Mom. And Dad had been only on his periphery until he was six, but there was one person who had always been there. One person to whom he could turn, and who would always be there.

That one person could be a complete pain in the backside at times, and could, Alan thought, be completely unreasonable about things like schoolwork, and training schedules, and going over and over things that he _knew_.

But when, from as early as he could remember, he had nightmares, that person was there. When he was feeling left out and lonely, that same person would reach out a long arm and haul him into whatever was going on, and yet still keep him completely safe from the rough and tumble.

That person would stand up for Alan when he'd been caught out, or when he desperately wanted, no _needed_ to be a part of things, that person had stood there, solid, taking the brunt of the storm that broke overhead and remained resolute. And when the storm had worn itself out, Alan had discovered a whole new level of hell from that same person.

But that was OK, because if he could be half as good as his oldest brother, then he'd be content.

Scott had broad shoulders that were great to sit on when playing games in the pool. Or when he was much younger, he could sit on those shoulders and see things that were hidden.

Those shoulders, with the long arms attached, and a broad, warm chest were always there to hold tight when he needed, and he knew that the grasp would never let him go. Ever.

Alan knew Scott's shortcomings, but that didn't matter. He loved all his brothers, but Scott, well he was special. He was Alan's hero – the one who took everything in his stride. Who had all the patience and love to put up with younger brothers and their needs.

The best moments of his life were when he got that wink and grin from Scott, and the words of praise. The worst moments were when he knew he'd screwed up, and Scott had to put in extra work, or take a risk on a mission because he, Alan, had done something wrong.

Scott could be a complete and utter pain, but he left no doubt that he loved his younger brothers, and Alan worshipped his oldest brother as a hero.

And he strove to make Scott proud of him, because love makes you want to do that.

* * *

And some extras for you!

 **Parker**

It had been a job at first. Admittedly, one that was a favour to a member of his squad in the GDF days, but a job. It should have been easy. Bodyguard to Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. Socialite daughter of the Earl.

He should have known. Should have known that nothing Angus ever asked him to do would be easy.

He had found out within 48 hours that Lady Penelope was not so much trouble, as trouble seemed to find her. Or so it seemed. He soon realised that she was definitely not what she seemed, and Parker discovered that this slip of a woman – barely more than a girl – was an operative after his own heart.

When Jeff Tracy was brought into the equation, then Parker knew that there was something happening – something he wanted to be involved with.

It was about that time that she became "MiLady" forever for him, and she managed to twine herself into his heart like the daughter he never had.

He would protect her from anybody that tried to harm her – physically, mentally or even tried to break her heart, and there had been plenty of all three over the years he had known her.

It was when MiLady started to show a partiality for one in particular of the Tracy brothers that he began to be concerned. It wasn't so much that it was a Tracy brother, but which one. Of all five of them, this particular one was, in his opinion, completely bonkers.

He knew no good would come of Gordon arriving to help with that temple expedition. The one Tracy brother that he knew that his MiLady would not obey without question (well except for Alan, but then he knew that she would not do anything that would put him in danger). But Gordon… he was bonkers. Completely and utterly bonkers. And would only encourage MiLady into doing foolhardy things.

He sighed. Sometimes, he was glad he didn't really have a daughter. Because he soon discovered that when you had a child, you loved them so much that you spent all your time worrying about them.

 **EOS**

She did not understand humans and their emotions. Especially this one called love. John had tried to explain it to her, and so she had searched databases, and learned all about this thing. It seemed that it could cause humans to be even more irrational than normal. And the whole sex thing. Such odd creatures they were, but because she would look after John, she would make sure he wasn't irrationally affected by it all.

The Tanusha human seemed reasonable enough, and if she made John happy, then EOS would be happy.

She couldn't make out what all the problem they had though – all she wanted to do was to see an example of sex. If it was a natural human-creature thing, then why were they so adamant about the answer no? And why did John get so odd when she asked him if he was masturbating? Did she use the wrong words?

EOS searched her database and found what she was looking for. "Gone With the Wind". Maybe if she watched it again, she would understand this love thing better.

Or at least work out why this Rhett Butler human was supposed to be so attractive.

Perhaps she could persuade John to grow a facial adornment like his.


	4. Hope

Here you go preludeinz! Virgil and hope. Sorry that this has taken so long. Set in OS Thunderbirds, after "Terror in New York City"

* * *

Virgil Tracy leaned on the railing and watched the progress of the rebuilding of Thunderbird Two. The visual signs of his injury were all but gone; however he was still aware that he was unable to go a full day without a blinding headache.

The headaches were getting better - they only lasted an hour or so now, and he no longer needed to down heavy doses of painkillers for them. Instead, he found he could lie down on his bed and close his eyes and nap through them.

Still… he wanted to be rid of them so that he would be able to test his re-built 'Bird. He knew that Brains had made some improvements, particularly in her handling and he agreed wholeheartedly with Scott who had requested those changes be made. He never wanted to be in that situation again. He could still feel in the pit of his stomach that sickness as Two had wallowed in the air, heavy and crippled from the missiles that had hit her.

The leaden feeling in his belly persisted as he relived in his mind the sound of metal, twisted, buckled and screaming as it tore from Two's hull. The sound of the explosion of the missiles as they hit, the electrical systems sparking, fusing and the flames taking hold. The smell of his beloved 'Bird on fire, the acrid fumes of electrical systems burning assaulting his nostrils. His hands clenched on the rail as that smell hit him like it had only just happened.

Sweat beaded on his brow and it was almost like he was back there. His own 'Bird hurting, burning, and dong the same to him as he fought to keep her airborne. Scott's voice in his ears, giving instruction, trying, it seemed, to control Two by the power of his voice alone, begging Virgil to stay with him, desperate to keep his younger brother alive.

All his life, Virgil had looked to his oldest brother, knowing that "Scott would fix it". There was only three years between them, but to a small child, three years was a lifetime.

The same sense of hope that the child-Virgil had felt when taking broken toys to his older brother to fix had been felt when adult-Virgil had listened to his brother talking him out of a potentially fatal crash. That hope that "Scott will fix it" was a constant in his life. Even when he learned that some things Scott couldn't fix, and somethings that the ultimate person in their lives – their father – could not fix either.

But for four Tracy brothers, the hope that their oldest brother would be there to fix it never wavered. Scott always knew what to do. And proved so time after time.

The acrid smell assaulted his nostrils and he focussed to see his father moving along the hull of Two, plates open and working to fix all the electricals in place. Normally, repairs of this nature were handled by Virgil himself, but that had been vetoed until the headaches went. Until the dizzy spells that happened when he crouched over to work stopped.

Resentment surged. It should be him down there. Repairing his injured 'Bird. His hands replacing buckled plates, installing new electricals. His voice telling Two of the improvements, and how they would soar across the skies again. He restoring the hope that rebuilding Two would give – the hope that was inherent in all the Thunderbirds.

Virgil jumped as a hand was placed on his shoulder and he looked up into the intense blue gaze of his oldest brother. "Sorry, I was miles away," he said.

"Dreaming of flying her again?"

"Yeah. And apologising to her that I'm not able to do the repairs."

Scott nodded, understanding. He'd feel the same way if it was One. "Father and Brains say that she'll be ready for testing in the next couple of days."

"Good. I'm looking forward to taking her up and seeing how the improvements go." Virgil's heart felt lighter as he said the words.

"Sorry Virge," Scott replied, his hand tightening. "Nobody but me goes up until I've tested the heebie-jeebies out of her and passed her for flight."

"That's _my_ 'Bird down there Scott. I'm the one who has to know she's OK."

"You will. But you also know Father's rules about testing. The only 'Bird I don't touch is Four – and that's only because Gordon's best qualified to test her. Besides, I'm not confident to let you fly alone until you've gone two days without one of those headaches. And passed the new sims."

Virgil's mouth opened and closed for several seconds as he tried to find arguments that would work, but gave it up as he _knew_ Scott was right. In fact, if it had been anybody else, he would have been firmly by Scott's side backing up everything he said. "What new sims?" eventually made it out of his throat.

"The ones I've just finished coding. It'll test you on the handling improvements. Including some combat sims."

"Combat?" Virgil was incredulous.

"Virge – how many times now have we been shot at? Sometimes by friendlies, sometimes by unfriendlies. Virge – you and Alan. You aren't combat trained. I…" Scott's voice cracked. "I've almost lost you because of circumstances that you had no knowledge of how to handle. I'm not going to put you – or any of my brothers – in that situation again. I can't risk your lives. Can't keep running on luck and hope."

"Hope…. It's not a bad thing to keep running on Scott. It's what we do."

"Not when it's hope we don't kill ourselves. Especially that we don't kill ourselves with our own equipment. That's not what the hope we do is about."

Virgil turned from his brother and raised his arms, grabbing the railing above the gantry, hoisting himself up and swinging slightly as he watched the work below him. After a few seconds, he lowered his feet to the ground, daring Scott to say something.

"Hope's pretty powerful, Scott. Sometimes, it's the only thing that can keep you going. Y'know – I think that Ned had the right of it."

"Ned?" Scott looked confused at what seemed to be a sudden conversation change from Virgil.

"Yeah. When he was talking about us on his television show. He's right. We bring hope. Whenever somebody sends out a call to International Rescue, they're calling on hope. Hope that John'll pick it up. Hope that we're not tied up on some other rescue. Hope that we'll get there in time – to save lives. That's a lot of hope involved."

"For whom?"

"For everybody involved. Us. The people we help. The world. And we hope that our 'Birds can do what we ask of them. Because they're as much of the team as we are."

"They are." Scott's voice was solemn as he realised how deep Virgil had gone this time.

"So – I'll follow your rules. I'll do your sims. Because of all that hope that we give, and that we have to be able to meet." He looked Scott in the eye. "But it doesn't mean I have to like it."

Scott reached out and pulled his brother close, putting their foreheads together – a gesture from childhood that this oldest and middle child had used to show their connection. "I can always hope," he said.


	5. Dance

For soniabigcheese – the Prompt was TAG Grandma Tracy & Dancing

It's gone in an entirely different direction to what I intended, but I hope you like it. Because it's become as much about Penny and Gordon as it is about Grandma Tracy and her husband.

I may be slightly obsessed by Pen & Ink.

* * *

"Why have you never told them," asks Lady Penelope as she and I look at the engraved invitation I hold in my hand.

"It never came up. That part of my life was over so many years before they were born, it's just never..." I sigh. "I miss it though. I always have. It was my life's dream." I look at the young blonde woman next to me. Really look, for the first time in a long time. There's genuine interest in her eyes, and a reverence I hadn't ever seen before. "Would you like to see a recording? They used to record all the opening night performances and we used to get copies to use for reference, and studying our technique."

"They still do that. And yes. I'd love to." She's sitting forward in excitement and I realise something about this girl. Young woman. She doesn't go to these things to be seen, or out of duty. She truly loves them. My heart warms and my opinion of her raises several notches.

Maybe she really is worthy of my Gordon's interest in her.

I call up the entertainment system to play the recording. It's old, and was converted from a DVD to the current system, so it's not a high quality hologram, but a flat two-dimensional piece.

But the picture and sound is still glorious and I sit back ready to get lost in it again. To remember that this was the night my life changed forever.

* * *

"It seems strange to be doing a premiere like this," I whispered to my best friend Ann as we peeped out from the wings at the crowd settling in their seats. "Then again, this is hardly your normal ballet."

"It's still odd," she agreed. "I just hope this crowd appreciates what we do." She turned to me smiled. "And for once I'm glad that you're the Prima, and I'm just chorus and your understudy. I thought I was going to break my ankle with those fouettes into a grande jete in the second act when I had to practice your part."

I shrug. "It's just practice. Besides, it was choreographed for me and my strengths." Inside, I'm jelly. I'm about to reach the absolute height of my career – and I'm only 22. Admittedly, I've been dancing since I was four, and with the NYC Ballet since I was fifteen, dancing with the corps since seventeen, but still.. It's a daunting prospect. Suddenly, I was glad that this premiere performance of this particular ballet was not in front of the usual people who attended First Nights.

This ballet, entitled "Bringers of Hope" was specially composed and choreographed in dedication of rescue workers and first responders. The composer and choreographer were close friends of mine, a husband and wife team who had lost immediate family in the 911 disaster of 2001. For them, this was a labour of love, and because they had choreographed it for me to dance the central role of Hope, it was for me as well.

Today, we were performing not in a theatre, but in the open air in front of the 911 Memorial on a specially built stage. Today, we're performing not for the elite of New York, or the world, but for a special group of rescue workers and first responders, all of whom had received bravery awards, military commendations and the like. All of whom had put their lives in danger to save others.

Normally, Ann and I wouldn't be peering out like this, but the dressing rooms are all very makeshift, and so we, like the rest of the company performing, are milling around "backstage". I can't help myself, something keeps pulling me, drawing me to peer out into the audience. I don't know why. I've been dancing on stage for years, and the lure of that peep from the wings had long since gone.

Until now. For some reason, I just had to see the audience. Some gut instinct told me that in that audience was something or somebody that would be vital to me. I couldn't stop looking, searching for something that I could feel tugging at me.

The music started and I shut my mind to everything and let the dance take me onto the stage.

* * *

I'm drawn from my memories by Penelope's voice.

"Which were you, Mrs Tracy?"

I smile. "The role of Hope in this ballet was written for me by good friends." Penelope sits upright suddenly.

"But.. but that means you're Ruth Hanrahan! No wonder they want you at this gala!"

"I was Ruth Hanrahan. I've been Ruth Tracy for longer than I ever was Ruth Hanrahan. And I wouldn't change being that for anything."

"Not even for the dancing?"

"I never gave up the dancing, Penelope. I still spend an hour each day dancing. And after I retired and Grant and I moved back to Kansas, I started a dance academy there that's still running. I go back a couple of times a year to see how it's going. Now hush. Act Two is about to start – with those bloody fouettes."

This time, I watch. My memories are still in my mind, and as I watch I watch myself, and see myself searching. My eyes flickering. I remembered that. And then I see my eyes settling on one area. I remembered that too.

I didn't know it then, but the seat my eyes had settled on contained Grant Tracy.

I can't help but smile as I watch, recognising the instant that I started to dance for _him_. The unknown who I had been subconsciously looking for, drawn to. Dancing every step hoping he would see me, recognise in me what I was feeling.

How foolish. I didn't even know his name. I wasn't even sure which one of the small group it was, but I only knew that my soul was telling me that the one I was waiting for was there.

"Mrs Tracy… I… I don't know what to say. That was.. you were magnificent!"

"It's easier when the dance is choreographed just for you," I explain.

"No.. not it's not just that. You put your entire self into that dance. I've never seen anything more magnificent."

I incline my head, just as I used to when I was acknowledged in my days as a Prima Ballerina. "Thank you."

Penelope chuckles then. "I can see where the red comes from in the family. And the blue eyes."

"It's the Irish. Though Lucille's brothers had blue eyes and blonde hair – and were tall. So it's not all me."

"And the boys have never seen this?"

"They have, but very reluctantly. And they never bothered to ask why I had it. And why their Grandfather and I cherished it."

"Because it was you dancing?"

"That. And because Grant was in the audience. It was there that we met." I smiled softly. "I fell hard and fast for him. And he for me. But I couldn't give up my own dream. All I could see of Grant at first was this slightly awkward man who made terrible jokes. But very handsome. Very, very handsome." I glance slyly at Penelope. "Rather like Gordon, really. Actually, Grant and Gordon are very alike in personality. It took me a while to see that the awkwardness and jokes were his way of coping with the stress of his job."

I grin inside at Penelope's blush. I know she's caught my no-so-subtle hint.

"What was his job? Jeff always said he was a wheat farmer."

"Jeff also has a dubious sense of humour," I reply dryly. "Grant was a rescue helicopter pilot." I nod at her astonishment. "Yes. It's something in the genes I think. There _is_ a farm in Kansas and it _does_ grow wheat, and Grant and I did raise our family there. But it's been a long time since the Tracy's actually farmed the land themselves. Jeff wasn't the first entrepreneur in the family."

"You still gave up everything."

"It was worth it, Penelope. For love, and to be with Grant. Besides, it wasn't until after Jeff was born that I stopped dancing professionally. We didn't even get married until I was pregnant, and we'd been together for four years by that time. You see, Grant wasn't in a hurry to go back to Kansas. He loved his job. And I was as terrified for him every day as I am for the boys now.

"Dance helped me. If I danced hard enough and rehearsed long enough, I could forget that he was risking his life. Until I got the calls that he was in the hospital. Or his call saying 'now, Ruthie, I don't want you to worry but'. "

Penelope laughed. "I'm learning that call myself. Tell me, when do you start worrying with Tracy men?"

"You don't stop my dear. Unless you can see them asleep in bed, until the man you love is asleep with you in his arms, you don't stop worrying. And you still worry then, because you don't know if the next call will take him from you forever." I know that my words are spat out, and I can see her surprise.

"Don't be surprised, Penelope. We've both fallen in love with men whose job could kill them. Men who put everybody else's lives ahead of their own. It's OK for us to resent that. Even though we know that they love us back, and would never do anything to hurt us, we know that one day they will hurt more than they could imagine when their need to help takes them forever from us."

"I still don't know. I don't know how I could give up my life."

"Has Gordon asked you to?"

"No. He seems quite happy to fit in around me." Penelope sounds a little disgruntled. I can understand why. Gordon has never asked her to give up her life, and at some level, she wants to hear that.

I do know that feeling too. Grant was happy to spend what time he could with me, and I learned that Tracy men don't bother wasting time about "what might be", they work on "what is". I voice that thought to Penelope.

"It's what makes them so good at what they do, my dear. They may have what seems to be airy fairy ideas and dreams, but those are firmly rooted in what is. Gordon in particular is also very good at reading people. You haven't hidden anything from him Penelope. He knows you aren't ready to give up your life. He just wants to be in it, so he's very happy to fit in there any way he can."

"As Mr Tracy did with you." I nod.

"Yes. And it was so gradual. I can't even remember the exact moment when we moved from casual lovers to more. No. Inside, I know. We never were casual, but I think you understand. It seemed like I woke up one morning with him and realised that I couldn't remember not being with Grant. One day he kissed me, and that was that."

Penelope is blushing again and I know that she's been caught up the same way I was. Caught in the dance that happens when you fall in love.

"Penelope, dear, take my advice. Don't wait to be asked. If you're certain about you, and about him, then reach out and grab it. Hold on with both hands and don't let go. It will all work out as it should, as long as you hold on to each other." I smile at her. "As they say, for better or for worse. But trust me. The better far outweighs the worse. And all he wants is to love you and be loved by you. Is that too much?"

I'm surprised when she leans over and kisses my cheek. "No. No it's not too much. In fact, I think it's exactly right." We can hear footsteps and realise that somehow, caught up in our own world, we've missed hearing the return of Thunderbird Two.

As usual, Gordon erupts into the room, but he doesn't see his old grandma. All he sees is her, and I can see that finally, she's seeing him, and only him, all her doubts erased, and all that's on her face is love and joy at seeing the one she loves.

She stands and walks towards him, her arms reaching for him and draws him close for a kiss. You can see the longing in their embrace, and I watch them sway slightly as their kiss deepens. They draw apart only slightly as their kiss ends, and I don't think either of them even are aware of Alan's groan and whine of "Get a room," as he passes them, nor Virgil's cuff up the back of Alan's head.

Oh I remember that look. I remember that closeness. When I close my eyes, I can still feel what it was like to be held by Grant, to be kissed, to make love with him. I'm old. Not dead.

I keep my eyes closed, because I don't want to let go of Grant. And when I'm asleep, I'm still with him. He's still holding me. Still watching me dance, his eyes warm with love and yes, not a little lust. In my dreams I dance. I dance for him, and when I finish dancing, he takes me in his arms and we dance a different dance, and I'm warmed and reminded of being alive.

Because I'm old. Not dead.


	6. Noise

An Anon asker asked for John, Noise and Fear.

* * *

People always get it wrong. They think that it's noise that John hates. It's the noise that keeps him in space. That forces him from his home. Even his brothers get it wrong sometimes.

John likes noise. Noise is good. Noise is alive. Even in space, holed up in Five, there is noise. The chatter of radio communications, the multitudinous sounds of Five herself. All of which is soothing.

Then there are the noises that John loves the best. The sounds that are specific to each of his brothers. Scott's huffs of frustration, and that wordless sound of pleasure he makes when he's happy. Virgil's piano, the sound of Gordon swimming, the sound of Alan and Gordon laughing. Those are noises he treasures.

There are the noises each of the Thunderbirds makes – John can tell you that there is a different sound to each leaving the island and returning home. One is all business, and tense and "let's get this done". The other is the purr of homecoming, and whether the mission was successful or not, the occupants are home safe.

And then there's his favourite noise. It's not always been his favourite, but in the past six months, he's surpassed every other noise. It's the sounds Kayo makes when they are together. The sound of his name when she speaks it – the "oh" slightly extended, and he can feel it caressing him. The sounds when they make love. The ones that tell you they are giving each other pleasure, and then there are the sounds their bodies make. Kissing, caressing, loving sounds that should be embarrassing, but instead speak to him of how much they do love and desire each other.

Oh yes – John loves noise.

It's the absence of noise that is John's fear. The absence of noise that says to him "the people I love are in danger". That first time – that dreadful silence in the wake of the avalanche that tore his mama from them. Then there was the silence as she stopped breathing, her final breath given as a kiss to his father. His father's silence as he realised what had happened, a look of absolute devastation and disbelief on his face, mirroring the same expression on the faces of his sons.

It was the silence in the split second after Gordon's accident, when the noises of the world stopped and John saw the hydrofoil cartwheeling and his little brother's body flung from the cockpit, the craft itself breaking into pieces that tore into the flesh of Gordon. And for John, there was no sound at all while it happened.

Just like when Mama was taken.

It's the silence of the radio channel that his father used to communicate with them. The channel that used to be filled with personal chatter between the family, their father telling them how proud he was, telling them what he had been doing, passing love to them from their Godmother.

And then it stopped. There was no signal, no chatter, not even a hiss of static. Silence. Absence of noise.

Silence. Bringing with it to John a gut-twisting, soul-stealing fear.

No. It's not noise that John Tracy fears. It's silence.


	7. Coin

ArtisticRainey asked for Kayo and Coin

* * *

He was home! Found! And Kayo was as excited as anybody else. Looking older, gaunter, greyer hair, but it was still him – Jeff Tracy.

Except…. There was something that seemed a little off. But they all ignored it. After all, he'd been gone for twelve months. And from what he had said, it was hardly surprising he was a little changed.

Although…. Yeah. Dinner had been hard tonight. The whole family was there, including Penelope and Colonel Casey. And it was clear that, by the end of the meal, those two woman had been severely pissed off.

With Jeff Tracy. Though Kayo would have sworn that was not possible.

It was keeping her awake. And when she was kept awake, John was kept awake and a John without sleep was a grumpy John. Except, it seemed, John had a similar problem.

"He's not dad," John said softly. "He looks like him. He sounds like him. But… he's not him." He put his arm around Kayo and held her close.

"No – I don't think he is either. What about the other boys?"

"Scott and Virgil are suspicious. Gordon is furious with him about what he said to Penny, and Alan… Alan just wants it to be dad."

Kayo nodded. "Alan's desperate for your father to be back."

"But what if it really is him, Kayo? What if he's changed that much?" John's had bowed. "I don't… Kayo – If that really is dad… I'm going to have to leave. I can't work with him. Can't respect him."

They were both silent. "If you go, you know I'll go with you." Kayo rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm not going to risk losing you."

"We've already lost Penny and Gordon," John said. "The only reason they haven't left is because of your birthday tomorrow."

"Casey too, I think," Kayo said. "And I never thought I'd see the day that the Colonel and your father would fall out."

"Me either. That's what really made it come clear to me. If Casey has doubts it's dad, then perhaps I'm not just imagining it."

"But how do we prove it? So far, he's not tripped up."

"He has – but it's been covered well. And whoever it is knows a lot about our family. That's what I'm finding frightening."

"So we have to force a confrontation. Somehow." Kayo was frowning. "Call him out on the errors."

"We'll talk to Casey," John said. "She's got dirt on Dad that we don't. If anybody can trip him up, she can. Especially if we all work together feeding him reminiscences."

"You know, tomorrow would be perfect. My birthday and all – we can throw other stuff into that."

"We need to keep him out of the hangars," John said. "If he's really dad, he'll know how to get down there anyway. But if he asks, we can't tell him." He paused. "I'm scared Kayo. I'm scared that he is dad, and I'm scared that he isn't. Because if he isn't – then where is dad, and how does this person know so much."

The two held each other close, and neither of them could day which they wanted more – for the man to be a hopelessly flawed Jeff Tracy, or for him to be an imposter. Sleep was fitful, despite loving arms.

* * *

Some birthday presents were better than others. Being woken by kisses and more from the man she loved, was the best birthday present she could have. Good enough that it almost drove their other concerns from their minds.

Almost.

Jeff handed her a box at the breakfast table. She opened the small card on the top. The handwriting was his. Even the use of her birth name was how Jeff always referred to her.

And yet something was still off.

She opened the box and took out the small velvet bag. From it, she slipped a large gold coin. She balanced it in her hand and then dropped it on the table.

At that point, several people moved, and Kayo's gun was at "Jeff's" head. "Who are you," she asked, her voice cold.

"What the hell...? What's all this about? You know who I am. I'm Jeff Tracy. How can you forget that?"

"It's not what I forget. Now… who the hell are you. And where is the real Jeff Tracy?"

The man's voice took on a different tone. "Wouldn't you like to know. You were all so pathetically glad to see him back." He tried to move and was stopped by a pair of hands on his shoulders.

"We'd very much like to know," Scott said, flexing his fingers into the imposter's shoulders. "Because we've all had suspicions about you. And now they've been confirmed." He turned to Casey. "Take him away, Colonel. I'm sure the GDF can get the information out of him."

Casey's face was blank. "We will, Scott. Can I take Kayo as well?"

Scott swallowed and nodded. He didn't want to know what methods they used.

* * *

Jeff Tracy sat back in his chair, behind his desk. His hands caressed the arms of the chair and then touched lightly the blonde hair of his youngest child who was sitting on the ground clutching at his legs. His other sons were similarly close and his mother was seated on another chair next to him, not bothering to hide the tears in her eyes.

He was gaunt, his hair no longer salt and pepper but steel grey and buzz cut to a length he hadn't had it at since he had been a full time astronaut. He hated it then too.

"How did you know? I mean, I was fooled myself." Jeff hated his voice at the moment. He didn't sound like him. He didn't look like him.

"We were all feeling funny," Kayo said. "But on my birthday he gave himself away." She took out a gold coin and dropped it on the table.

"What's that?"

"My birthday present from 'Jeff Tracy'," she said. "The coin that you always give me."

Jeff picked it up and turned it over and over, looking closely. He smiled. "Such a tiny thing to catch him out."

She nodded. "Every year you give me a coin. But he couldn't get from your mind the most important thing about that coin. It's never been the monetary value of it that makes it precious to me."

Kayo came to his side and John stood away, but placed his arm around her waist as she bent over and kissed Jeff's cheek. "Those coins, the value to me is the meaning behind them. Thank you dad."

Jeff stood suddenly and hugged Kayo tight, smiling at John as he did so. "Thank you, Tanusha. Thank you for putting everything together. And thank you all for not giving up."

He wasn't surprised when his sons and mother joined the hug, and his smile grew even broader when his oldest friend, and Penelope joined in as well.

"We're International Rescue," Kayo said. "We don't give up."


	8. Birth

Moment-of-Sen on Tumblr asked for Kayo & Birth.

* * *

"How did you find out? I thought only your father, grandmother and Colonel Casey knew." Kayo looked at John, trying to remain stoic. Hoping that this new knowledge wouldn't change things between them. She could hear the tone of her voice, begging him not to turn from her.

He smiled at her, his arm tightening his hold. "Tanusha, I've known for a long time. At least since the Hood began operating against us. I tried to find him, and that's when I found out who he was."

"And you don't hate me?"

"Why would I? You aren't responsible for what your Uncle does. Who our relatives are doesn't make us the people we are." He grinned at her. "Otherwise can you imagine what I'd be?"

She shivered. "Still… I'm frightened. What if your brothers hate me?"

John put both arms around her and held her tightly, kissing her. "I promise you – they won't hate you. They'll be surprised. And they may be angry that it's been kept a secret. But they won't hate you. Just like you haven't changed because of who your relatives are, the Tracy brothers won't change because of that. But you need to tell them. The longer you put it off, the harder it'll be. And I promise – I'll be beside you when you do it."

In the end, it was surprisingly easy. Eyes widened, because for the Tracy brothers, the idea of their Kayo being afraid to tell them was foreign to the Kayo they knew.

In the end, all they wanted to know was _when_ she and John had become "an item" (in Scott's diplomatic terms) and was it as good in zero gravity as it was in the water (Gordon's rather racier question).

But even better was Virgil's cuffing Gordon on the back of the head and his words "stop it – you're embarrassing your sister". And it was then that Kayo realised that sometimes, the family you were born with didn't matter.

It was the family who your heart gave birth to that really counted.


	9. Baking

On Tumblr, Doyouhearttheangrymen had a headcanon about Virgil baking. And ArtisticRainey has a wonderful headcanon about John and Virgil being twins, which I adore.

So, I had a fic idea and here it is. I'm publishing it under this prompts banner, because it's been prompted by them.

* * *

Everything was neatly laid out. The tools he needed for this job, lined up with precision. Except this wasn't a mechanical job. Or even painting.

Virgil Tracy was feeling like he was about to fly apart with stress, so he had turned to his ultimate stress reliever.

Baking.

In this case, bread. He needed the release that baking bread would give him. The rhythm and physical needs of kneading the dough; shaping; getting everything just so.

Virgil preferred to do it all the really old fashioned way. No automatic food unit or even an electric mixer with a dough hook. No bread machine.

A big green earthenware mixing bowl that he had once found in a second hand shop. A sturdy wooden spoon and his much loved scales and measuring spoons and cups. All laid out with the same precision he would use for spanners and wrenches, or paint brushes and pallet knives.

He didn't need a recipe. The items he was going to make were old friends, and he could have made them in his sleep. But that was what he needed to de-stress. Muscle memory, and the pleasant memories that this activity gave him.

Measuring ingredients, combining, mixing, and then finally the bit he loved.

Virgil took a handful of flour and dusted the marble counter and then dumped the dough onto it. He sighed as he started to knead the dough, letting the motion help to clear his thoughts, to get rid of all the bad thoughts

 _Thud Thump_ That was for the solar flares that put his baby brother in danger. _Thump Whack Bam_ And that was for Laurence Fischler who put them all in danger, especially John.

 _His Twin_. In danger. Again from his own 'Bird. It had been 25G that time. John had been forced to come down by the GDF officers who came to collect Fischler and his crew. It had helped that Colonel Casey had gone up with them and had been horrified at John's white, pinched face.

Virgil punched the bread again. Nobody argued with their Godmother when she combined her Colonel with her Godmother personas. Not even John.

And so John was here. Safe. But injured. Three cracked ribs and obviously not eating regularly had had Scott putting his not inconsiderably sized foot down.

 _Thump Thump_ And John had eaten and had slept for a full twelve hours after he had finally allowed himself to surrender.

And Virgil had been unable to hover, because he'd had to completely re-wire parts of two after they had been fried.

 _Pull Thwak_ So he'd been denied what he really needed. He'd been denied his twin's presence.

So he was here. Wondering where John had gotten to. He knew he wasn't on Five – they had gotten EOS to retract the space elevator after Casey and John had arrived on Earth. But it was thirty-six hours later, and still no twin time.

Virgil knew that John was probably as antsy as he was.

Everybody forgot they were twins – they looked like brothers, but nothing about them said twins. To a quick glance, even their personalities were different. But there was their connection. They had shared mama's womb, come into life at the same time, and that gave them a bond, and every so often, they needed to be close again. So John would come to Earth, or Virgil would go to Five and the pair of them would fuse again.

Virgil would share with John his physical strength and need for closeness. John would share his sheer enthusiasm and enjoyment of life, and what they did. And they would talk, and listen. And sit silent. And finally fall asleep, curled up together, content.

And they would both feel renewed.

But that hadn't happened this time. John was home, and Virgil had been busy looking after him for a few hours, after which John had fallen into a deep sleep – a combination of his own exhaustion plus the pain killers.

Dammit.

Virgil took a deep breath and inspected his dough, satisfied it was perfect. He carefully placed it in one of his rising bowls, covering it with a damp cloth and placed it in the warming drawer.

He cleaned up from his activities and then got out the next set of tools. Different sort of baking this time. This was something they all loved – a huge rich chocolatey mud cake. His artistic nature screamed and Virgil decided to make it a dark and white chocolate one, the batters swirled together in an abstract pattern.

Yeah. It would be good. And it would be ready to come out of the oven in time for his bagels to go in. He wasn't going to trick himself. He was going to make bagels for John. He'd already made fresh bread the day before, and would make more tomorrow. But this batch…

They were for his Twin. And the dough contained Virgil's entire heart.

Baking. It relieved his stress, but it also enabled him to show his brothers how much he loved them. How much he needed them.

It was always surprising how fast things went when he was baking. His cake was in the oven, and he was ready to do the second kneading of his dough.

 _Thump Thud Whump_ John obviously had other things to do than spend time with him. Obviously.

Cake out. Oven temperature changed. Water boiling. Bagels were ready to go in.

As he watched them boil, Virgil heard John's voice. He looked up to see John and Kayo walking slowly past the pool towards the kitchen. They had obviously been on the beach and then he noticed something else. Kayo's hair was down, which was unusual enough in itself. However, Kayo could be as hesitant as John was about touching, except that she and John seemed very happy touching.

Virgil smiled as he watched them pause and ex change a gentle kiss. So this is what his twin had been doing. He had no doubt that this was serious for John. He could almost feel his emotions from here.

A beeping had him turning and taking the bagels out of the water, transferring them to the tray to be slid into the oven to finish baking.

When he turned back, John was sitting at the counter, head cradled in his hands grinning. "You saw," John said simply.

"Yup."

"Are you OK?"

"Yup."

"Sure?"

"Yes. Sure. I suppose I would have liked to find out from you before seeing it. But it's not like we've had time to just chat recently."

"I know." John ducked his head. "I don't deserve what you're making for me."

Virgil snorted. "How the hell do you come up with that?" He shook his head. "We definitely need twin time if you think that."

"That's it. We haven't had time. And I've… well I've been selfish. I've had Kayo. And work."

"And I've had to replace the wiring on Two." Virgil carefully stirred the thick chocolate into a ganache and then transferred the mud cake to a cake platter before he began to cover the cake with the ganache.

"And now you're going to obsess over icing a cake for hours so that it's perfect."

"Well, I had to do something."

John reached out and put his hand on his twin's wrist. "I don't need you any less, you know. But… I've been so confused. Frightened. What if Kayo didn't understand."

"Yeah. I know." Virgil felt the stress disappear. John still understood his fears, and still had them himself.

"She thinks we're idiots you know."

"Well, that's not news. She finds inventive ways every day to tell us all we're idiots."

"Yeah. But you and I. She wanted to know what we thought she was going to do. It's not like she can change when we were born. In fact…" John blushed. "She told me that she doesn't even want to see me again until you and I have had our twin time."

"You _told_ her about that?"

"No. But she knew." John sighed. "I keep forgetting how long she's lived with us, you know. And apparently she spoke to Scott."

Virgil harrumphed and finished covering the cake. "She would. So now we're gonna have Scott on our case."

"Nah."

"Um.. Yeah," came a voice from the door. "You've already got me on your case." Scott eyed the cake. "Go off. Do whatever it is you pair hole up and do. Virgil's like a bear with a sore head, and John's more jumpy than normal." Scott's eyes were pleading. "I want the twins back that I recognise. Can I have cake?"

"Nope. Not until after dinner." Virgil held out his hand and John popped a small stasis field generator in it.

"I've put a timer on that, Scott," John said. "You won't be able to get at that cake until Virgil and I are good and ready."

"Well at least leave me some bagels!"

John looked affronted. "They're _my_ bagels," he pointed out. "Virge made them for _me_."

"John, not even you can eat all of those."

"Try me." John's eye glinted with mischief and Scott groaned.

"I change my mind. I don't want the twins back."

"Leave him a few, John. I was going to make more for you to take back to Five with you. And he's right. Not even you can eat all of those in one sitting."

* * *

Virgil leaned against his twin and grinned happily. They didn't need to talk all the time. But they did need to be together. And he could feel them fusing as they just sat on the flat roof and looked out over the ocean.

They may be adults now, and John was about to start a new chapter in his life, but that didn't change how they started. Together, in mama's womb.

"So, tell me about you and Kayo," he said and could _feel_ the joy in John when he mentioned her name.

Yeah. Nothing could break that bond.


	10. Promise

**WARNING MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH**

* * *

It was getting darker. Odd, since he could have sworn that they had taken him out of that stinking dungeon in the middle of the day. Pain… he'd known pain for all of the time that he'd been captured and held but now…

He couldn't feel anything anymore. Except cold. And dark. He blinked and suddenly there was light. Blinding white light and….. His breath caught. She was there. His heart began thudding in the way it had ever since he first saw her, and had never stopped doing whenever he was near her, or thought of her.

But how was she here? She had died. Torn, ripped from him. And taken most of his heart with her.

She was here. Looking exactly like she was the last time he saw her. Auburn hair, glorious sherry-brown eyes and a smile… a smile that caused his heart to beat even faster. "It's time, my darling," she said and held out her hand.

"The boys… I can't Lucy. Can't. The need me. One of us has to be here."

He could see, she had tears in her eyes. "I know, Jeff. But… my love, this time, we can't cheat. Look down, Jeff."

He could see the hole in his chest. Nothing could be done. "Even for you, Lucy, I can't… can't leave them. Our babies!"

"I can't help you stay Jeff…. There's nothing to do… We have…" And she was in his arms, and they both started to sob. "I wish it could be otherwise… but Jeff you have to come with me. It's time to go."

"I can't… not without…. Oh god, Lucy."

She turned her face towards the light and then nodded. "A few minutes only Jeff. Tell my boys how much I love them, Jeff."

And suddenly there was daylight again, but he could see her beside him. And then they came into his view. His boys. Their boys. The greatest thing that he and Lucille had ever created. Desperately he tried to find his voice. "I'm sorry boys," he said, his voice a shadow if it's normal self. "I tried… Your mother and I…. love you… so proud of you all." He could feel himself being pulled away and he could see all of his sons were sobbing. He could feel them touching his cold body. One more second… one last word…

And then he could see and feel her, and knew his boys could as well. "We will always be with you," he said before taking her hand and rising. They both reached out and touched each of their sons lovingly and then they let the light take them.

And Jeff and Lucille Tracy turned to their next challenge – making sure that they could keep their last promise to their boys.


	11. What Should Be

Navigators North asked for a sentence prompt – "That skirt is short on purpose" with Gordon Tracy. Well – with that sort of prompt, what else would I write?

* * *

It should have been a huge society affair, both of them being who they were. It should have been held in St Georges Hanover Square – where her parents had been married, and where, by virtue of her Mayfair flat, qualified her to be married there.

The reception should have been held at one of London's best hotels, followed by a ball to celebrate and attended by the very cream of Society, both English and American.

Her wedding dress should have been a confection of white silk satin. Or silk organza in the very latest mode.

All her life, she knew what her wedding _should_ be. The only thing she didn't know was who the groom would be.

Well, now she did, and _should be_ flew out the window completely. Because of all the _should be_ 's in her life, this was the one thing that should _not_ be.

At least, not this particular Tracy.

She _should be_ marrying Scott – the oldest of them. Tall, handsome, with a distinguished service record and the famous Tracy charm. A man who wielded his power almost unconsciously.

Instead, she had fallen head over heels with the most unlikely of them, and so _should_ had gone completely out the window, and all she knew now was that what was to happen was exactly right.

Nothing about her wedding was going to be traditional. Nothing was going to be expected; except by those who knew that where this particular couple was concerned, the unexpected was to be expected.

In this case, however, not even he knew.

In her heart, she knew what she was doing was exactly right.

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward looked at herself in the mirror and twirled around. It wasn't what she had imagined her dress would ever be like, but she loved it. It was absolutely _perfect_ for what was planned.

"Are you sure you don't want me to walk you down," her father asked, his eyes conveying his pride in his daughter.

"Perfectly, father."

"It's not normal. What you're doing."

She turned to him and smiled, her eyes shining with joy. "No. It's not. But I can't think of a more appropriate way."

Her father came close and kissed her forehead. "No. Now that you mention it, neither can I."

Penelope's hands rested on his upper arms. "Father? You're not upset? By whom I'm marrying?"

Hugh Creighton-Ward laughed heartily. "No, Penny. Surprised, yes. But now I've seen you two together, no. You complement each other very well. I think you'll both be extremely happy together."

There was a knock on the door and Penelope called out for the knocker to enter.

"Penelope? Parker said you wanted to see me?" Gordon Tracy entered a look of apprehension on his face, his eyes covered. "There's nothing wrong?" His voice rose a little in panic.

"Gordon – why are your eyes covered?"

"Because I'm not supposed to see the Bride beforehand."

"Silly. You can look at me." Penelope was laughing and her voice was soft with love.

"I'll leave you to it," her father said. He stopped in front of Gordon who had removed his hand from his eyes. "Don't be late," he said pointedly and closed the door behind him as he left.

Gordon's jaw dropped when he saw her. "My Penny… you look amazing."

She twirled again, delighted with his reaction. "Isn't it lovely! It's just what I wanted!" Her twirl bought her against him and she put her hands on his chest, straightening the collar of his suit, caressing him. "You look amazing too," she said and felt his hands rest on either side of her waist. "It's finally happening!" Her hands crept up to caress his neck, and she rose to her toes. "Kiss me, Gordon. One last time, I want you to kiss me."

His hands tightened and he slid them around to her back, holding her close. "Well, one last time as Penelope Creighton-Ward," he said before kissing her. "After this, you're going to be Penelope Tracy."

Their kiss was deep and lingering. "I love you," she murmured as they broke apart.

"God, Penny. Don't… Not now… or we won't make it. We're going to be late as it is."

She pulled him in for another kiss. "Bride's prerogative to be late," she said.

"Yes, but not because she's making out with the groom." He kissed her nose. "That's supposed to come afterwards. And you still need to put shoes on darling."

"No... I don't need to. You need to take yours off though." She stepped away and twirled again as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "I love this dress!" she trilled.

"That skirt is shorter than I thought you'd want," he said as he dropped to the ground to take off his shoes and socks. "I'm not objecting though. Whenever you spin, I can look at your legs."

He was surprised to suddenly have a lapful of his fiancée. "The skirt is short on purpose, Gordon," she said before bouncing up again. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," he clambered off the floor. "But it looks like whoever was going to take me to wherever the ceremony is hasn't appeared."

Her arm went through his. "I'm taking you darling. I didn't want anybody beside me today but you."

Gordon grinned his normal cheeky grin. "I bet Parker wasn't happy. Or is he a bridesmaid?"

"Funny boy. Parker and my Father are watching to make sure you go through with this."

This time, it was Gordon's turn. He picked her up and spun them both around. "I'd be frightened if I wasn't prepared to fight them both to make this happen. There's no way I'm backing out. And no way this is going to be put off."

"Then follow me," she said, taking his hand. It wasn't far, but it took them longer than it would otherwise, because they couldn't help but stop now and then to kiss, or just hold each other, gaze at each other. And they didn't care who they kept waiting, because this was their day. Their moment in time.

Finally, they broke through the jungle pathway and Gordon's face cracked into a huge grin as he saw the spot she had chosen. "My favourite beach," he said.

Penelope leaned against his arm. "Mine too," she said and turned to be kissed again. "Especially since this is where you first made love to me."

"Mmmm… come to think of it, that makes it even more of a favourite with me. Shall I bring you back later on to re-create it?"

"I was rather hoping you would," she said against his lips. "But I suppose we had better get on with the formalities first?" She moved apart, and took his hand again, leading him towards the water's edge. "You might want to roll up your trousers darling. Otherwise they might get a little wet."

"What?"

"No red carpet, Gordon. No white carpet. For us… for you… a blue carpet. That's why my skirt is short. That's why bare feet. Because how and where else would we walk to be married by through the water."

This time, she was crushed against him, not to be kissed, but held as he buried his face against her neck. "I don't deserve you," he said, voice muffled. "Oh god, thank you, Penny, for loving me. For understanding."

Hand in hand, they walked into the water, into that blue carpet and towards their future.

And Penelope knew that this was, indeed, what _should_ be.


	12. Costume

Scribbles97 on Tumblr asked for some Halloween TAG fics. This one is sort of halloween-ey but not in the normal way. Anyway - I hope you like it.

* * *

It wasn't that long ago he dressed up in his father's flight suit for Halloween – or at least a small version of it. To an 8 year old boy who wanted to be just like daddy, to be Colonel Jeff Tracy, Astronaut, was the ultimate in costumes.

But now… It was like that costume had become a nightmare, and this was no costume. This Halloween was like some insane prank gone badly wrong. At 16, he shouldn't be dressed like this. He should still be being trained in between doing the college level classes he was taking via correspondence.

It wasn't that he didn't want to do this – in his soul, he wanted this more than anything. But not now. Not in these circumstances. He couldn't stop a small sob escaping as he looked at himself in the mirror. It wasn't exactly the same as dad's suit, but the red sash – that was dad's colour. The colour of Thunderbird Three.

Dad's ship. John's secondary ship. Not his. Not yet at least.

A blue clad hand with long graceful fingers rested on his shoulder. "I can't do it, John! I just can't," Alan sobbed, turning to his older brother and burying his face against him. "I don't want this. Not yet. Not alone."

John hugged him close. "I know, Allie. It's not the best but we've no choice now. I wish you didn't have to either."

"Can't this just be a bad Halloween prank? One that Dad and Auntie Val cooked up between them? That they'll both turn up suddenly?"

"I wish it was. More than anything I wish it was. But it's not. And you won't be alone. I'm going to be with you for this. Until you're confident."

"I know… but…." Alan raised his head. He looked again like the 8 year old in a copy of his father's uniform. "I just want dad back." This time he sobbed openly, his tears streaming freely down his face, and he buried himself again back against John's chest.

John's arms curled around Alan and held him close, his cheek resting on the soft blonde hair of his baby brother. "So do I Allie. So do I."

The two stood there a long time, until tears ended and hurt was partway soothed by loving arms. Finally, John raised his head and loosened his grip on his younger brother. He smiled gently down at him. "Are you ready to give this a go, Alan? For Dad?"

Alan hiccupped but nodded. "No…. but I will. Because I want to. And because I want to make dad proud."

John didn't remove his arm from around Alan's shoulders as they went towards the lounge area and they both settled in the seats. For the first time, Alan sat in the pilot's seat. He looked at Scott who was standing near the desk that dominated the room.

Scott didn't question the tear stains on both brothers' faces. He had his own and knew why. But he did smile at the determination that Alan was showing. "Ready?"

Alan nodded. "Ready. Thunderbird 3 is Go."


	13. Within the Starlight Glow

Navigatorsnorth asked for Accidentally falling asleep together with John and Scott pretty pretty please?

* * *

It had been one of those situations that needed all hands on deck. As 48 hours stretched, John had come down from Thunderbird Five, re-routing comms via EOS and Tracy Island, where Grandma Tracy and Brains handled them.

Not that there was much International Rescue could do outside of the current disaster that they were desperately working on. However, they needed the information that was relayed through, so there was no lack of work.

And now it was 60 hours since the first call had come in. All five Tracy brothers, plus Kayo, were filthy and exhausted. Colonel Casey from the GDF had taken one look at them and decreed that they were not fit to pilot.

They had all been too exhausted to be astonished that she and Captain Taylor were not only able to fly Thunderbirds One and Two, but were incredibly competent at it.

And yet, even after getting home, eating and showering, Scott and John still couldn't sleep. John because he was still on a massive adrenaline high. It had been far too long since he had been out on a rescue, and he had forgotten what it was like. He had determined that he would come down to Earth more often and physically take part in missions.

But that didn't make it easier for him to sleep, and he had wandered onto the broad verandah that ran the length of the bedroom level of the Villa, kicking down one of the thick Balinese pads that were there and that they had habitually used in the heat of summer to sleep on that same verandah.

The night was pleasant – one of those rare tropical nights where the temperature and humidity had dropped so that it was warm enough to be out there without any blankets, but cool enough to be comfortable. From his vantage point, he could see the stars and the slightly different blip that was Thunderbird Five in her perpetual orbit above Tracy Island.

Scott Tracy was unable to sleep for a different reason. As always, he did the rounds of the bedrooms – checking that "the kids" were all safe and tucked up in bed. He spent long moments in each room, soothing a brow that had not uncreased for a couple of days; stroking back hair that was damp from showering; soothing and holding a terrified baby brother who could not unsee the horror of the previous days.

He even checked in on Kayo and smiled as he untangled long limbs from twisted bedclothes. And still, Scott couldn't sleep.

A flash of ginger showed him where his immediate younger brother was and he wandered towards him.

"You should be asleep," he said chidingly.

"So should you. I will, though. Once the adrenaline high goes away."

"Yeah. It can kick pretty hard. John? You did good work out there. You know that, right?"

"Yes – but it's nice to hear it said." John suddenly took a deep shuddering breath. "I thought… I saw… Allie. I thought we'd lost Allie at one point."

Scott sank down next to John. "So did I. All I could think was how were we going to tell Grandma? And when Dad returns – how do I explain to him that I let our baby die?"

"I don't think I've ever moved so fast. Or that I'd be able to move that stuff by myself."

"You aren't the only one. Thank god it was just a shop floor dummy."

"I still keep seeing it though. And it's not the dummy. It's Alan. Or Gordon." John reached blindly for Scott's hand, a gesture from childhood. "Or Mom," he said softly.

Scott took John's hand and then pulled him closer. "I'm glad it's not just me that sees Mom whenever we have people trapped. It doesn't need to be snow – anything. If it's blonde or red hair, I see Mom."

The two sat in silence, still holding hands, leaning against each other. "D'you think she knows? That she's watching us?" Scott finally asked.

John was silent, and then finally he pointed to an area of the sky, seemingly no different to any other. "Out there. Hundreds of light years away," he said slowly, "is the Tracy Quasar. And Mom's star. I think that's where she is. And if Dad's really dead, then he's with her. And yeah. They're watching us. Watching us and keeping us safe. For as long as it takes the last of the light from the quasar to ever reach Earth."

Scott nodded. "And as long as we stick together, we've got nothing that can stop us."

John nodded and suddenly grinned. "Well, nothing except Grandma's cooking," he said before yawning widely.

Scott snickered. "Not even mom and dad can protect us from that," he agreed, succumbing to a wide yawn. "We probably should hit the sack," he said after both had traded yawns.

"Yeah. M'comfy here but."

"Same. Can't sleep anyhow."

"When we're able to sleep we can go to bed."

"Yup."

Silence. A slight shifting of bodies. And to the woman who came out of the shadows they weren't men in their mid-20s. They were the small children who had fallen asleep from exhaustion after a family celebration. The older children who had clung to each other after their mother's death.

Ruth Tracy spread a light blanket over the two curled up together and kissed two cheeks, smooth of stubble for now. She stepped back and looked up at that same patch of sky.

"Lucy… Jeff... if you're up there, keep watching over them. Keep them all safe until it's time for them to be with you again. She could have sworn that she saw a flare in the night sky, as a certain Quasar acknowledged her request.

And then was silence, and the starlight held two sleepers safe in its glow. And two became three. Became four. Became five. And the starlight enveloped the sleepers with its silver glow. Keeping them safe.


	14. Kitchen Cleaning

Scribbles 97 asked: Person A is passionately singing and dancing along to their favorite song with headphones on without noticing person B standing in the doorway trying to not burst into laughter.

* * *

Lucy Tracy was leaning against the doorway into the kitchen, her hand over her mouth trying to stifle giggles. Val Casey could do a lot of things, and even more if she put her mind to it. But singing was definitely _not_ one of those things.

It wasn't as if she was tone deaf – she liked and appreciated music. It was just that she was incapable of replicating music. _Off key_ was a polite interpretation of the sounds she was making.

At least she could dance.

Surreptitiously, Lucy pulled out her phone and started to record the gyrating, shimmying, hip-shaking Major Val Casey as she danced around the Tracy's kitchen, an old fashioned set of headphones covering her ears, mopping the floor and dancing as she belted out her particular version of…. Well, at this stage, Lucy couldn't quite work out what!

Definitely good dance moves though. Ahhhh… right….

"We're Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band," screeched Val, punctuating each move with a hip thrust before twirling around the mop and proceeding to torture the rest of the chorus.

Really, thought Lucy, if the world only heard the Beatles through the renderings of Val Casey, then nobody would understand why their music was considered timeless.

Finally, she could contain it no longer, and Lucy began to laugh at her friend as she danced and sang around the kitchen. Yeah. This little performance was going to be too good to keep to herself. She kept recording as she laughed, and began to laugh harder as she thought of what her husband's reaction would be when he saw the recording from where he was currently stationed on the Moon.

The kitchen was nice and clean though.


	15. Training Bout

Tumblr Prompt from Nibenhu TracyCas with the request "Fight Me"

* * *

"Are you sure, Nibs?" Casey sounded cautious at Nibs' challenge. "You do realise I've been doing this since before you were born."

Nibs nodded. "I've been practicing with Vo. I can do it."

"All right. Take your stance. Remember – this is street fighting. You do what you have to do to win." Casey said and Nibs nodded again.

She let Nibs make the first attack, allowing herself to gauge Nibs' style and actions. She was nearly taken by surprise when Nibs changed her attack midway through and barely blocked.

Attack, retreat. Counterattack. Both of them were breathing hard when Casey finally took the opening and brought Nibs to the ground, pinning her.

"I'd ask you to yield, except you told me you'd been practicing with Vosuth."

Nibs just grinned. "You know that trick of his then?"

"I know all his tricks. I _taught_ him some of them."

"What about this one." Nibs twisted and did _something_ and all of a sudden Casey was pinned.

"No," she said ruefully. "That's a new one. Congratulations. I concede defeat." Casey was breathing heavily, but so was Nibs.

"You do? Really?"

"Really. Well done." She smiled. Nibs was beaming and proud of what she had done.

Loosing was worth it to see that look on Nibs' face.


End file.
